Better late than never

Wow has it really been six months! Tomorrow I am going to the a lottery draw for the magnet school that I hope Sprout will be able to attend. While I can't believe that kindergarten is right around the corner, I also cannot contain the glee that I feel about this idea. I am so excited for her to embark on her educational experience and I believe whole heartedly that she will take the bull by the horns and only be a better person from the experience. I loved school. It would pain me to take a day off and fortunately I feel like my daughter is a chip off the old block in this respect. I just hope that her experiences are positive and she will always have a love of learning. Now that I have made the definitive decision to have an only child I can say my only feeling on the topic is relief. I cannot imagine going through infancy and toddlerhood or preschool for that matter. I celebrate ever movement she makes towards independence. I hear parents lament over the lost babyhood of their children and I cannot relate in any way. I am so happy that she is becoming her own person. I look so forward to having more than an hour to myself. Maybe I can actually work out and remember who I am as a person. Don't I have hopes and dreams that extend beyond my child. God I hope so. Wasn't I funny and not so burnt out? I think so. Can't wait...3 more months. We will make it!

Throwing Down the Hammer

I have decided that the balance of power in my house has shifted in an unsettling way. I know that I am being terribly inconsistent in my mothering and I am now paying a price for it. Sprout has become a bit of a tyrant and I have only myself to blame. I have a tendency to respond to requests, aka demands, in an often hasty way. After rethinking my original "NO", it occurs to me that maybe I really don't give a shit. The result is coming off incredibly wishy washy and making me an easy mark. Even Pavlov's dogs knew that if you kept pressing the button long enough you would get results. Kids can smell weakness. It was after Sprout casually requested/demanded that I "Fluff her pillow" that I realized the true error of my ways. Mea Culpa, I give in.

But.....

Recently I watched an unsettling episode of Dr. Phil, that had me seeing Ghosts of Future Impending Doom if we keep moving along this same path. This woman and her 14 year old daughter yelled, screamed, and hit each other during arguments. There was no sense of understanding or trust. There was enormous disrespect. It made me sad. I thought, Jesus, what does it take to disintegrate a relationship that much.

I have always had a close relationship with my mom. I rely on her wisdom and patience always. It would devastate me if my own daughter didn't trust and respect me in a similar fashion.

So...
I am dropping the hammer and taking the power back from my tyrant.

One of the things that drives me the most crazy, yet is completely within my control is the meal situation. There are many days when I feel as though I should have a Bee Hive and a name tag that reads Flo. Serving up snacks with a sarcastic response and a scowl. That's not fun...enter THE SCHEDULE.

I have tried to establish meal times and was successful up to a point. Somehow it got out of control. The constant request for a snack was becoming ridiculous. "You can't have a snack. It's lunchtime." "I don't want LUNCH. I want a SNACK!" So, now I find myself arguing semantics with a four year old.

So I decided let's just put it in writing and silly little clip art pictures for the illiterate ones. I have to say she seemed to take to it quickly. Perhaps she is lulling me into a false sense of security or just thankful for some decision. But we were in bed on time with a 2 story max and just one song. Well okay one and a round of Greasy Grimy Gopher Guts. We'll see what tomorrow brings...

VACATION!

I got my period today. For many of you that may seem like a mundane duoduel occurrence. For me a ticket to freedom. I have been pissing and moaning for some time now that I am in serious need of a vacation. For many folks who have children this yearly rite of passage conjures images of Disneyworld, family friendly resorts, etc...for me it entails white sand beaches, swim up bars and 7 blissful days of alone time. Thanks to a long lost life insurance policy taken out by overly pragmatic parents I will be spending a week baking in the caribbean sun sipping on highly alcoholic beverages and smoking illicit drugs on a white sand beach. I am counting the days...Have I mentioned that it has been SEVEN years since I have been on a vacation.

Now vacation means different things to different people. For me it means not worrying about a god damn thing. No one asking me for anything, needing me to do anything. Pure mindlessness....so in essence this means going on vacation sans child and husband. I will be basking in the company of my brother and in-laws.

Do I feel badly leaving Sprout at home...no. I think that the week she will spend with her father will not only bring their relationship closer together and form concrete bonds, it will also give Daddy a true idea of what Mommy deals with all day everyday. So come January I will bid them adieu and come home in a much more amiable state of mind and who knows, maybe junior will find a way into our lives after all.

Retention

My husband and I are extremely anal expulsive. It is for this reason I am at a complete loss when I try to figure our where my finicky daughter came from. Was she planted by aliens? Did she hatch from an egg? She is quite literally anal retentive, in that she will not shit for 6 days at a clip. Not only is she poop challenged, everything is an issue.

Today we went to the beach. It is a beautiful, dry, warm spring day. Just right for looking for shells to add to our collection. Upon arrival at the beach, I am informed that it is too sunny. Walking along the beach yielded protests of it being too sandy. Well that was fun. We left after 15 minutes.

The previous day, Sprout had left her doll carriage in the backyard. I told her to go get. Most children would gleefully kick up their heels and run out and collect their toy, not my child. Why? Because she was shoeless and would have to walk across the grass.

Holy hell! I deal with issues all day long...There is water on my shirt, my hands are wet, those are the wrong color snacks. I feel as though the fun of her youth is being sucked out of her from all of these grievances. I sure as hell know its sucking the fun from me.

To Procreate or Not to Procreate

So I am really on the fence about having another kid. I find myself questioning my ability to divide what little of myself is left into further pieces. Is there any more left to give?

I see my life verging in two different directions with the choice of having one and having two and its the debate over which path will bring peace and contentment to everyone involved. Hmmm, let's see. Pro's and Cons? Feel free to chime in if you have a viewpoint I may have overlooked.

PRO?
i probably would have been a markedly different person if I grew up as an only child and I am sure more different yet if I was the older sibling in a duo. I can say that being a younger sibling has been both a pleasure and a pain. My dear brother beat the crap out of me mentally and physically, but he also took me to my first keg party and even made sure I got home alive... I always find it ironic, that 2 people living in the same house at the same time with the same parents can have such a completely different life experiences. So I guess the question is will Sprout be better off with a sibling or without. I have to give this a big BETTER WITH. I love my Brother and when the parents become invalids, he will be just as responsible :) But, fuck I have the attic...

PRO?
The age difference... if I was to get preggers tomorrow, would be 5 years. So Sprout would be in Kindergarten, holy hell, when did that happen? And the new one, we shall call it the new one, although it may be a whole lot of fun to have a boy, although my girl is super cool. Either way, the fact that I can imagine the little guy/girl in our lives must mean something. I would love to add to this mix. If they were any closer in age I might need to be in an institution. Although as I spoke with an old friend, I realized that had they been closer together they could now entertain each other as opposed to fight constantly over what ever play thing the other is holding. Maybe 5 years is too much time in between....ahhhhh!

CON
I feel as though I should enter a pie chart here. The division of myself. If I was to break it down hourly per day. I wake at 7:30 and between that hour and the 8 O'clock pm hour give or take an hour, I have zero time or space to myself. I go to the bathroom and children are there. If the kids are not jockeying for my attention or my personal space they are asking for something to eat, something to entertain them, encompassing every moment of time. This time overlaps with hubby time. If I am lucky I may get 2 hours alone. Perhaps some people would say this is an abundance of time, but for me it is overwhelming.

I could go on and I am sure I will, but my bed beckons, an hour later than usual, since sprout was not interested in going to bed before nine and someone needed their back scratched. I will probably read for an hour and fall asleep only to be awoken 6 hours later by the angelic sounds of "Mommy, I'm awake" :/

The Devil Wears Carters

The one thing that drives me the most insane on a daily basis is the unrelenting barrage of whining. Every word all day long is pronounced in a tone akin to a firetruck siren. "IIIIII'mmmmmm awwwwwake." "I don't want thaaaaat to eat", "your hands are weeeeeeett" I know that I am contributing to this behavior in some way. I suppose that I should just tune it out, ignore it. Have you ever tried ignoring having bamboo shoots jammed under your fingernails?

All the experts say to be consistent. Do these same professionals have an RX pad readily available for the high dose of valium I might need in order to cope with this fluency in whinese?

We have tried to illustrate to sprout just how annoying this whining is..."I don't waaaaaannnnnt to pay the bills", Whhhhhhhhy do I have to go to wooooooork" "Whhaaaaaaat do you waaaaannnnnt for dinnnnnnner"

I am hoping this is a stage and I will continue to repeat my mantra of "Love them the most when they are the least lovable" God Speed.

Peanuts VS. Walnuts

I think I have neglected to mention that aside from my own certifiable nut I am responsible for a smaller and even crazier nut. My brother and sister-in-law both work full-time. They have left their darling off-spring in my care. We shall call her peanut. Peanut came into my care at 4 months of age. She is now 20 months old and basically I would describe her as a bull in a china shop. Incredibly dexterous and equally intelligent she gives me a bigger run for my money than my own. Combine the two and it is like napalm. Everyday from 7:30am until 5:30 pm the two nuts are fighting, hugging, laughing, crying and generally making me laugh and simultaneously sending me to an early grave.

I think both of them are far better off for the experience of growing up together. They are learning to share, the importance of family and what it like to have a sibling. They love each other and drive each other crazy.

I am learning what it is like to have 2 children and wonder if adding one of my own might throw me over the edge. Along with the added stress of simply managing two children physically come the challenges of meeting both of these kids needs emotionally. Do I favor my own? Am I too hard on peanut because she not mine and a little nutty? Does she get enough love and guidance while here? Will she think back fondly on her time with "mama", I mean auntie? So instead of wrestling with the normal am I being a good mother guestions I am now saddled with Am I a good Aunt questions.

Where is my wine?